Excuse Me
by wesome
Summary: Sherlock meets a girl who's not like anybody he's ever met… except himself. Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So I recently watched the first season of BBC's ****Sherlock**** (still have to watch the rest) and, may I say, I am such a fangirl now! Benedict Cumberbatch is amazing! Anyways, this popped in my head during class and I felt the need to share. OOC? Maybe, but go easy on me. This is my first time writing out of the Avengers fandom. I don't own Sherlock Holmes- original or any remakes-, any music used in this, and I, sadly, don't own Benedict Cumberbatch (yet anyways… I asked for him for my birthday so, fingers crossed!) Hope you enjoy! Review please:)**

Sherlock Holmes was bored. Never a good thing for anybody, especially himself. He sat in 221B Baker Street staring out the window; he hadn't moved for several hours. Just sat, staring. Dr. John Watson had only recently returned with the shopping and he was getting agitated.

"Sherlock… Sherlock?" The famous consulting detective didn't look up. "Sherlock!" John yelled.

Finally, Sherlock Holmes moved. He turned his head slightly, eyes still focused out the window. "What?" His voice was listless.

"You need to get out of the house, Sherlock," Dr. Watson spoke slowly, clearly to let it sink in.

Sherlock's eyes finally moved from the window to John. "Why?" he asked. John would have called it whining if Sherlock hadn't been a grown man.

"Because e you're not yourself. Go out, get some fresh air, and, I know you don't like people, but it wouldn't kill you to socialize a little."

"Actually," Sherlock replied, "It could kill me. They could be murderer or carrier of unusual diseases." He sat still and John could practically see the gears turning in his head. He held his breath…

Sherlock Holmes flipped himself out of the chair and, walking over (not around), the several cluttered coffee tables, grabbed his coat and turned back to Dr. Watson. "Alright. Where are we going?"

"We?"

Sherlock sighed. "You wouldn't unleash me on London alone would you, Dr. Watson? Your conscience won't let you." He waited, one hand on the doorknob.

John sighed. "Damn. You're right." He shrugged on his own coat and followed Sherlock out the door.

As they descended the stairs, Sherlock called out, "We're going out, Mrs. Hudson."

A small voice called back, "Congratulations, dears! Have fun boys!"

"Wait… Wha? No, that's not… we're not…" John protested in vain as he followed Sherlock Holmes out into the city.

The two mean wandered the streets of London, no specific destination in mind. "Just out of curiosity," Dr. Watson broke the silence between them, "what made you change your mind to go out?"

Sherlock shrugged, "Would you believe me if I said your sincere concern for my well being?"

"No."

"Good because that's not it." Sherlock took an abrupt turn and John hurried to catch up. "Frankly, if I socialize and meet a murderer or even a disease carrier, it'd be more interesting than anything at our flat."

"Even microwaved eyeballs?" John asked in faked shock.

"ESPECIALLY microwaved eyeballs." Sherlock abruptly came to a halt, nearly causing John to run into him. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. I was following YOU."

"Hmmm… Are you hungry?" Sherlock cocked his head.

"Yeah. Aren't you?" John glanced over at him.

"… Am I? I must be. I haven't eaten in… do sugar packets count as food?"

"No. Sugar packets do NOT count as food. Neither does coffee, tea, or nicotine patches."

"Oh… then… it's been… awhile." Sherlock paused; his eyes focused intently on nothing. The he clapped his hands and started walking. "Well, then! Let's eat!"

John sighed _(It was just like Sherlock to forget if he'd even eaten)_ and ran a few steps to catch up with the absentminded genius. "Not Angelo's"

"Why?" Sherlock looked over at him. "Oh. Does it bother you that he thinks we're together?"

John coughed. "Yes! Doesn't it bother you?"

Sherlock stopped again, thought for a moment, before continuing briskly. "No. It doesn't matter to me what people think about me. They don't listen anyways."

"Then where, exactly, are we going?"

"A little bar I don't know." Sherlock darted across the street.

John nodded absently as he followed, apologizing to the startles cabbie they'd run in front of before he caught up with his friend. Then Sherlock's words seemed to catch up. "Why a bar you don't know? Isn't it usually a bar you do know?"

"Is it?" Sherlock back tracked and cut through an alley.

"Yes. It is."

"Hmm… interesting…" Sherlock stopped abruptly again, and this time, John did crash into him.

"Hey! Stop _doing_ that!" John brushed his jacket off. Sherlock didn't apologize, but John really didn't expect him to. "You haven't answered my question."

Sherlock started walking again, "I haven't? No, I haven't. Do you really want to know?"

"_No_, I only asked as a joke. Of course I do!" John was getting frustrated.

"Hmmm… Mostly because any bar I DO know is ahhh… 'not conductive' to the (mostly) clean and sober lifestyle I've been trying to lead lately." Sherlock stopped again waiting to cross the street. "Someone might… recognize me. And tonight, I don't believe I'd have very much willpower. Frankly, I don't care as long as I have something to distract me." He shrugged casually as traffic stilled and they ran across.

They walked in silence then. John following Sherlock as he weaved a crazy path through the city. Suddenly, Sherlock clapped, startlingly John out of his quiet thoughts. "We're here!" Sherlock grabbed John's arm as he hesitated, lugging the disgruntled doctor inside behind me.

The bar took up half of the establishment. The other half was half tables and half stage (half bar, quarter tables, and quarter stage.) Sherlock like it. Less seats= less people. A band was setting up on the stage and half the tables were filled. The bar was nearly filled too. A waitress (_pretty, I suppose_) handed them a laminated menu and gestured for them to either take a seat at the tables or the bar. John hesitated, so Sherlock just walked to the tables, picking one around the middle of the stage but a couple back.

They sat companionably, discussing the pros and cons of each dish. The bar/restaurant was undeniably American. Southern, country to coast. The waitress came by a few minutes late. "Are y'all ready to order?" she was definitely original Southern.

John smiled _(Don't bother John. She's engaged)._ "Yes. We'll have…" Sherlock ignored them. He knew what they were getting and her accent was slightly annoying. _Ugh, and that __giggle!__ How does anyone find that charming?_ The waitress left, just as the band finished their setup.

"Hello," the lead singer called out. Just a taste of Southern on her tongue. "I'm Katrina. This is the band: Paul on drums, Rog on piano, Stephen on bass and fiddle, and Jason on guitar. We're Sunflower Nights from the Gulf Coast. Have fun everyone." Sherlock finally looked up from his inspection of the well worn table _(Cigarette, cigarette, knife)_ and inspected _(Katrina, she said?)_.

She wore a fitted, yellow long sleeved, black collared, lacy shirt above tight blue jeans. These disappeared into a pair of tan, genuine _(scuff marks, dirt from an actual rodeo)_ cowboy boots with black stitching. She was slim. Skinny; not so much as to be too skinny, but still skinnier than someone her approximate age _(25)_ and height _(5'4" minus the boots)_ should be. _Eating disorder? Not likely as her teeth are in excellent condition. Malnutrition? Maybe… but definitely not since her youth…_

She was slightly tanned, but it was faded. _Obviously she'd grown up in a sunny place but moved… two years ago?_ Her naturally dark brown hair was pulled over one shoulder. _It's long… hasn't been cut in… 6 months to a year… and is naturally a LOT more straight…_

"Sherlock?" The man in question was jolted out of his thoughts abruptly by John's voice.

"Yes? What is it?" Sherlock turned back to find a smiling John.

"See something you like?" John's tone was mocking with just a hint of true curiosity.

Sherlock raised his brow. "No, of course not. I'm merely curious." he glanced back to the stage, noticing the way her red-stained lips moved smoothly forming words and releasing them into the air.

"In the music or the singer?" John's eyes flicked to the band.

"I'm not listening to the music."

"You're not?" John sounded incredulous.

"Nope. Not consciously anyway," Sherlock replied absently.

"Oh. Wait… how can you… What?" Sherlock sighed and turned back to his companion.

"I can hear it, yes, but I have chosen not to register it just yet. So, to me, it's as if there is no music. Understand?"

"Not in the slightest, but I don't really have to, do I?"

Sherlock's mouth turned up slightly in a smile. _John's learning_. He turned back, opening his ears to the music. A calm, beautiful voice floated around him…

_All I knew this morning when I woke_

_Is I know something, know something now I didn't before_


	2. For Heavens Sake

**A/N been a while my dear! I have sooo much written out!… but, the problem is having to transfer it to the computer:( Typing for an extended periodof time hurts my left arm and typing with just my right is too slow! Conundrum. I promise to update this, and my others soon though! I have so many ideas for these… review?**

**For Heavens Sake**

Katrina McNash noticed them. Of course she did. She noticed everything. And the men who entered shortly before they- the band- started, were certainly something.

One was tall, young (_couldn't be past late 20s_), and handsome in an androgynous sort of way. His eyes were alight with curiosity… and boredom.

His companion was short, looked a little more worn and cautious, and was being dragged in by the arm by the other. She saw the knowing glances the waitresses shot each other before Beth greeted them, but Katrina didn't agree. _No way are they together. Just because one has no sense of personal space and the other's given up on protesting, doesn't make them gay._

She rolled her eyes as she turned back to Jason. "You set?" Katrina asked lightly. Jason just looked at her through his bangs and she suppressed a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry Jay. I warned you back in high school didn't I? 'Don't fall in in love with me.' I said that to you. You didn't listen. I _can't _feel that way about anyone. It's not your fault. It's mine and I'm sorry. I really am. But can we please just get on with this gig?"

Katrina knew Jason would leave soon. They always did. He'd head back to Mississippi. He missed it there. She'd seen, from the window before she'd entered that night, the band gathered. He'd told them then that he was going. She could see it in his eyes and she swallowed another exasperated sigh. "Just one more time. Let's play together one last time before you go back." Come one," she held her hand out just like he had on the day they'd met, "friends?"

He took it and shook it once. "Friends," he agreed quietly.

"Good!" Katrina smiled genuinely. She knew it wasn't over at that, but as long as Jason wouldn't drag her through any emotions with him, then she'd be fine until he left. "Let's play."

Katrina stepped up to the mic. She spoke calmly. Short and sweet, she introduced them and they played and she let her brain go as she sang.

_Pull yourself together_

_Before you set yourself apart_

_Make every door you walk through_

_A living work of art_

_For Heavens Sake_

_For heavens sake there's more at stake_

_Than we may ever learn_

_More footsteps to hold onto _

_And corners to be turned_

_Like weeping violins, _

_You tremble and you shake_

_Don't you dwell on the future _

_For it's miles away _

As she sang, Katrina noticed the man studying her. Her thoughts were wild and free now, only some of them even concerned about him.

_For heavens sake_

_You're talkin' in your sleep_

_Like there's nothing more to lose_

_Well hey you know you're not alone_

'_cause honey I get lonely too_

_And it feels so familiar_

_Must have been here before_

_Singing' I don't wanna go_

_But I don't wanna hurt anymore_

_For heavens sake_

_And I know and I know and I know_

_That it ain't always fair_

_You're gonna have to let it go_

_No you're not moving anywhere_

She could see the thoughts in his eyes. He wasn't just watching her because she was pretty like so many others had. He was trying to figure her out. He turned to his friend and she smiled to the rest of the people as she continued.

_Pull yourself together_

_Before you set yourself apart_

_Make every door you walk through_

_A living work of art_

_For heavens sake_

_And I know and I know and I know_

_That you've had more than you can bear_

_But you're gonna have to let it go_

_No you're not moving anywhere_

_For heavens sake…_

The final chords filled the air, dueling with the chatter. A few people clapped and she smiled, "Thank you. That was 'For Heavens Sake' by Thriving Ivory." She glanced at that strange man who was trying to see through her, then back to at her band, "And this is 'Everything Has Changed' by Taylor Swift." She closed her eyes as the music began to play, a light smile tugging on her lips.


	3. Everything Has Changed

**A/N Yeah, yeah. I started this song in the prologue. But Sherlock wasn't listening during 'For Heavens Sake' so this picks back up where Sherlock left off. School and dance are gonna be out soon, so I hope to write and update more during the summer.**

**Everything Has Changed**

_All I knew_

_This morning when I woke_

_Is I know something now_

_Know something now I didn't before_

Her voice was one of the most beautiful things Sherlock had ever heard. Many thought that he was incapable of distinguishing beauty, but he could. He just had his own standards. He thought a lot of things other people thought were gruesome were beautiful so people assumed he didn't know what true beauty was. But they were wrong. He knew what was considered beautiful to others, and he knew that usually his ideas of beauty were not on the same list as theirs. But he also thought (himself, without even considering other people's opinions) that a lot of things others considered, he did too. He, unlike the ordinary person, however, could explain exactly what made something beautiful. The vague hint of an accent he'd heard earlier melded seamlessly in with the music, making it sound just so absolutely _right_.

_And all I've seen_

_Since 18 hours ago_

_Is green eyes and freckles _

_And you smile in the back of my mind_

_Making me feel like…_

Sherlock saw her look pointedly at him. Just a second. A bright, curious, knowing glance that said she'd seen him looking and she was laughing (_laughing!)_ at him.

_I just want to know you better_

_Know you better, know you better now_

_I just want to know you better_

_Know you better, know you better now_

_I just want to know you_

_Know you, know you…_

Sherlock stood abruptly, "I'm going to get a drink." He walked a few steps then turned back. "I assume you want a beer?" he asked reluctantly.

John looked up from his phone. "Yeah. Thanks."

Sherlock stood there and looked at him before turning again, making his way to the bar. Her voice followed him, mockingly, there.

'_Cause all I know is you said hello_

_And your eyes look like coming home_

_All I know is a simple name_

_Everything has changed_

_All I know is you held the door_

_You'll be mine and I'll be yours_

_All I know since yesterday_

_Is everything has changed_

Katrina was laughing. Not on the outside. Of course not. But part of her on the inside was. He was rattled. Not like some would be. Of course not. He was… different. She could tell.

_And all my walls_

_Stood tall painted blue_

_I'll take 'em down, take 'em down_

_And open up the door for you_

_And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies_

_The beautiful kind, making up for lost time_

_Taking flight, making me feel like_

…

Sherlock got the two beers, returning to the table without even informing the bartender that his wife was cheating on him _(John will be so proud)_. The food arrived shortly after, and they ate. It was surprisingly good, seeing how Sherlock usually detested anything fried. They talked about nothing in particular. The establishment was crowded and filled with obnoxiously boring people, not helping Sherlock at all.

The met several of these people. People whose names and words floated aimlessly inside Sherlock's head. They were not important; certainly not interesting enough to cure his boredom. The only reason he stayed was because, well, because John seemed to be having a good time. He was chatting with an retired lieutenant of the marines and after trying, and failing, to include Sherlock in the conversation as well, they'd gone off on their own _military _talk.

Sherlock was twisting the cap of his beer around in his fingers, trying to distract himself by working out the exact amount of force needed to drive the cap into somebody's skull, when he noticed a change in the music.

Katrina's voice, which had filled the already noisy room, was gone, replaced by a man's. _Most likely the guitarist as he's done vocals for the other songs and the duets._ He wondered where she had gone, turning back toward the stage (which he had thoroughly ignored- well… maybe just a glance or two- since they'd finished their food). He found her quickly enough. A few tables over, a group of men _(Boys, really)_ had called her over, and she was standing next to their table as they talked.

She smiled, laughed, twisted her fingers through her hair; all signs of genuine interest, eve flirting. Except… except they were fake. After watching for a minute, he concluded that she was faking interest in the men. The smile she wore was perfect. Too perfect. It never wavered and was just the right size and shape to convince others _(obviously not Sherlock)_ that it was real.

Then her smile changed, like she was biting back laughter. She flicked her hair casually over her face. Then, as she brushed it away, looked directly at Sherlock… again. She smiled, as genuine as he had seen it yet, and politely excused herself from the other men.

She made her way over to Sherlock. Never losing the eye contact. He felt… exposed. Like she was reading him as easily as a book. _Hmmm… Is this how people feel when __I__ look at them and deduce them? How frustrating!_

He cocked his head as Katrina made her way to stand in front of him. She mirrored his movement, still keeping their eye contact.

John turned back to Sherlock, surprised to find him with someone. "Err… Hello…?"

Katrina turned her head, but her eyes remained on Sherlock's. "Katrina McNash."

"John. John Watson." Katrina nodded slightly.

Sherlock finally spoke, "Shouldn't the line be 'Watson. John Watson'?" John sighed exasperatedly and Katrina raised a brow. "Sherlock Holmes." He extended his hand. He could see her consider it, saw the gears turning in her head (so much like his own), calculating every pro and con and how exactly she could use this, before she reached out and took his firmly in her own. There were no sparks, nothing so dramatic. Nothing but a strong voice in the background:

_Do you remember_

_When we first met_

_I sure do_

_It was sometime_

_In early September_


End file.
